


Power Play

by aunt_zelda



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug-Induced Sex, F/M, Face-Sitting, Forced Orgasm, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Parent/Child Incest, Power Play, Pseudo-Incest, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Violence, Strangulation, Violent Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balem decides to try a different method of getting Jupiter to give up her claim: spiking her drink with space sex drugs, rendering her an overstimulated mess begging for mercy at his feet.</p><p>Things ... don't exactly go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Play

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Jupiter Ascending Kink Meme prompt here: http://jakink.dreamwidth.org/724.html?thread=71892#cmt71892
> 
> Prompt: _Instead of simply ordering and intimidating her into rescinding her claim, Balem attempts to get Jupiter to submit to him with an overload of pleasure._  
>  _The trick? He can't bring himself to touch her--at least not at first._  
>  _Jupiter comes the first time or few times without ever being touched--method is up to you. Dirty talk is a plus, but super bonus points for space roofies and/or weird biotech that doesn't actually contact her genitalia._  
>  _Ultra bonus points if Balem breaks down his own set boundaries of not touching her, leading to lots of rough angsty fucking._
> 
>  
> 
> So this is ... very not consensual at all. Jupiter is in a heightened drug-induced state throughout this, so she can't give consent to anything. Balem gets violent, Jupiter gets violent, Balem blacks out at one point so he can't give consent either, they keep flipping who's in control ...  
> This is a mess. If it's the kind of mess you like to read about, go ahead. If fics with rape/non-con scenes and elements upset you, this is not the fic for you. 
> 
> I hope I got all the major tags, if I missed something do not hesitate to let me know and I will amend the tags accordingly. My purpose is to entertain, not to upset, so I want all the proper warnings in place.

She realizes something is wrong almost instantly. He watches with delight as her eyes widen in shock and fear. 

“What did you …” she staggers, the goblet clattering from her hand. “You … you can’t kill me … I … it would be murder, you won’t …”

“I haven’t poisoned you,” Balem circles her, crouches down to retrieve the goblet. “I’ve merely … introduced a new chemical compound into your system. You should be feeling its effects quite soon.”

“Oh …” she doubles over, face turning interesting shades of pink. He remembers that coloring on that face, from when he wrapped his hands around Seraphi’s throat so many lifetimes ago. 

She is not Seraphi. But in this moment, Balem allows himself to forget that fact. 

“You should take a seat. Soon, you will be unable to walk.” He gestures to the couch he was reclining upon earlier. If she falls, he will have to carry her, and at all costs he wants to avoid touching her. 

Balem has told himself it is because he wishes her dead, finds her loathsome and disgusting.

In truth, it is because he fears what will happen if he lays hands upon her, feels the warmth of her skin underneath his fingers, looks into her eyes, and sees Seraphi staring back at him. 

She staggers forward, collapses onto the black fabric. She cries out, arms wrapped around herself. 

“What have you done to me?” she gasps. 

“There is nothing like it on your Earth. It is a drug designed to heighten the senses of pleasure. In large quantities, it can induce quite intense sensations. People under its influence become quite insatiable.”

She looks at him, eyes wide with horror and … fury. “You roofied me?!” despite the flush creeping over her exposed skin, her anger lashes forward. She is not lost in pleasure yet. 

Balem almost – _almost_ – flinches back. The resemblance is truly uncanny. He is sorely tempted to leave her and avoid any more moments of confusion, but that would defeat the purpose of this scheme. “From the research I have conducted, I believe it is more similar to the drug known as ‘ecstasy’ on Earth, not what you refer to as ‘roofies.’I have no desire to render you unconscious, or to cloud your memories of this.” Balem steps behind the couch, peering down at her. “You will remember everything. Acutely.” 

She shudders all over. “Bastard …” she’s toying with the zipper of her pants, seemingly unconsciously. 

“For example, you will remember when your passions overcome you utterly, and you touch yourself. You will remember the way I watched you lose control, debase yourself.” Balem smirks. “You will remember how you cried for mercy.”

She glares up at him. “In your dreams.” Then she sits up on the couch and carefully and deliberately spits at him.

He is so shocked by her vulgar act that he does not recoil in time. Her warm saliva splatters against his chest. 

Seraphi never spat at him. She did many things, horrible things, wonderful things, but she never _spat_ at him. He was worth more to her than that.

“Charming,” he wipes it off with his cape. “Prolong your agony as much as you like, but soon you will be unable to stand it. I gave you a rather high dosage.” 

She turns away from him, eyes squeezed shut.

He waits. She will break the silence, he knows. He has lived millennia, she has barely a handful of years to her name. Impatience will win out over defiance. 

“So what’s your plan?” she huffs, breath already coming short and strained. “What, are you filming this or something? You’ll threaten to release my sex tape if I don’t sign over Earth to you?”

“Hardly,” Balem wonders if he ought to record this though. Something to taunt Titus with, perhaps, fling in his baby brother’s face. 

“Then what?” she cranes her neck to look at him. Her hands are gripping the fabric of the couch tightly, and he can already smell her sweat. She’s keeping herself composed well enough, but it won’t last. 

“Soon, you will offer me anything if only I will bring an end to your torment. You will deny your claim, your heritage, your name, your Earth. You will _submit_ to me.” There’s a slight growl in his tone, but he doesn’t bother to hide it. Kalique would have latched onto that and used it to her advantage, Titus would have mocked him for it, and Seraphi … Seraphi would have know it before Balem knew it himself. 

“Submit? To you?” she laughs, _laughs_ at him. 

“Yes, you will.” He leans over the back of the couch. “You spend most of your days on your knees already, don’t you? I’m sure you’re comfortable enough in that state. Maybe, for the right person, you might even come to enjoy it.”

She glares up at him, but he senses some doubt. Perhaps it’s the drug, perhaps it’s her own secret desires. Something for Balem to toy with, as this scheme progresses. 

“A pity your dog isn’t here to assist you. He’s another creature made for submission. I’m sure he’d be all too eager to get down on his knees in front of you and lap up your fluids.”

She stares right at him and gasps, shuddering, and falls sideways onto the couch. “Oh … oh god …” Her face turns red and her legs tense. 

Balem grins. “I told you, the drug will make you very susceptible to suggestion. That was the first of many orgasms. Enjoyable for now, but they will become quite painful as you continue.” Balem loves the coupling of pleasure and pain, perverting a joyous reaction into something overstimulating and agonizing. “As I was saying, your pet. Splices are quite adept at pleasing their masters. He wouldn’t think of coming before he had satisfied you utterly, not one as well-trained as him.”

She is squirming now, hands clutching the edge of the couch, white-knuckled and desperate. 

“… why, if you straddled his face, he would endeavor to please you even if he could no longer breathe.”

She moans, her whole body writhing like a fish on land. It would be disgusting, if not for each of them being another step closer to Balem’s triumph. 

“But maybe you’d rather go onto your knees for him. Wrap your lips around his cock and suck him right to the edge, so he’d be slick and ready to mount you. Would he pick you up while he fucked you? I think he would. He’d have you against a wall, rough and dirty, how you deserve it.”

She screams this time, shuddering and writhing on the couch.

“I’d let him warm you up for me. That’s what splices are good for, all the hard work. I’d get you wet and loose. Would you even realize at first that it was my cock instead of his?”

She doesn’t make a sound as she comes, but she comes just the same. 

“Disgusting,” Balem can’t help himself. “I can practically smell you from up here. You stink of sex already, and you haven’t so much as touched yourself.”

She peers up at him, eyes just as focused as ever. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Nice private show?”

He sneers. “Hardly. Though I can understand someone like you indulging in such a fantasy.”

“Fantasy?” she sits up suddenly, so suddenly that Balem has to lurch backwards lest she strike him with her forehead. “You’re the one who kidnapped your reincarnated mother and fed her sex-drugs.” 

Balem is about to strike her, has his hand raised to do so, before he stops himself. He can’t give her the satisfaction, or the suspicion, that what she said held a grain of truth. 

“Look, I don’t know what kind of weird alien sex you people have, but I’ve got a very intimate working-knowledge of how I operate down there.” she swings her legs up onto the couch, reclining entirely. “So, if you want a show, I guess I’ll have to give you one.” She unzips her pants and pulls them down around her knees. 

Balem takes a step backwards, the couch now blocking her from his view.

“Make up your mind, asshole!” 

He hears the sound of fabric sliding over skin, then the slick sounds of fingers meeting wet flesh. 

When Balem was young, a thousand years or two thousand years old, he’d walked into his mother’s chambers and found her in much the same condition, pleasuring herself. He had fled, mortified, having seen nothing but her hand buried beneath her skirts, hidden in his rooms sick with strange desires.

She had come to him later, much later, shown him how to use his hands to please himself, and then her. 

“Oh … oh … ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh god!” her hand appears over the back of the couch, grasping at air. “… wow … oh damn …”

Balem smirks. She’s realized that instead of sating herself in the usual way, her lusts have not been quelled in the slightest. 

Soon, she will be thrumming with tension, and too weak to satisfy herself. 

He resists the urge to look at her through the next two orgasms, listens to her strangled cries and watches as her pants slide off the edge of the couch and onto the floor. 

Then he can resist no longer. He tells himself it’s the memories of Seraphi clouding his judgment. She even _smells_ like Seraphi now, it’s bound to be confusing. 

He slowly approaches the couch, stands at the edge and looks at her. 

One hand is grasping at her hair, pulling near the scalp. Simulating the grip of another, he decides. Her other hand is rubbing furiously between her legs. There’s a wet patch on the couch’s fabric underneath her, but she pays it no mind. Her vest is opened, her breasts bouncing with every movement of her body. 

“Just … just … _there_!” she comes with a shudder, a weak shudder, staring up at the ceiling. 

She is beautiful like this, weak and shining with sweat, nipples hard and hair sticking to her forehead. So like Seraphi after an afternoon spent in pleasure and distractions. 

Balem reaches down and runs a hand along her side, tracing the route from her shoulder to her hipbone. 

She reacts suddenly and violently. 

“Get off of me!” she lashes out with her right arm. The slap stings, knocking him back half a pace. 

He lunges at her, trying to seize her from behind. 

She drives her elbow into his stomach and frantically shoves him away. 

“Don’t touch me!” she screams. She tries to scramble from the couch but he flings himself onto her, pinning her down. “Let me go!” she struggles, squirming against his body.

“Are you certain? Or don’t you want this?” Balem keeps her pinned and slides one of his hands up to tangle in her hand, tugging like he’d seen her tugging before. “Your arms must be tired by now. And there’s hours left of that drug coursing through your system, if not longer.”

“No …” she chokes out. He’s not sure whether it’s in response to his question, or the information about the length of her torment. 

“I can make this stop, I can let you rest,” he breathes against her neck. “All you have to do is refuse your claim.”

“No!” she bucks up, jolting him with sudden strength. He falls from the couch and lands, hard, on the floor. 

As he tries to regain his balance, she leaps down onto him, straddling him, tackling him. Her fist comes into contact with his face twice, then her fingers are scrabbling at his collar. She finds the release catch and it opens, she flings it aside and wraps her hands around his throat, her thumbs pressing underneath his chin. 

Balem panics. His legs kick furiously, his hands reach up trying to scratch her eyes. He digs his fingernails into her arms, but her hold does not loosen in the slightest. 

His eyes begin to water, his face begins to burn. This must have been how it felt, when he did this to Seraphi. Or did she do this to him?

She pauses, and slackens her grip on him slightly. 

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize why.

The combination of oxygen deprivation, pressure on key arteries, and being this close to a nearly-naked copy of Seraphi has inspired … a rather predictable reaction from Baelm. 

“Oh yeah, _I’m_ disgusting,” she smirks down at him. “I’ve got you all figured out.”

“You do not!” he snarls. 

“Uh ah ah!” she squeezes his throat viciously. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

He arches up, manages to rub his erection against her. “’M not …” he chokes.

She frowns, loosening her grip. “If we fuck, does that mean we’re married?”

“No,” he wheezes. “If that were so, Titus would have seduced you and had no need for that ceremony.”

“Do you have any diseases that can be passed on to me?”

He glares at her. “We have evolved beyond such concerns.”

“Ok then,” she fumbles one-handed with the fasteners at his waist. “I’m gonna ride this drug out, and you’re gonna help me. And then we’re gonna talk like diplomats.”

Balem laughs. “If you think diplomats don’t negotiate like this –” his words trail off into a series of embarrassing sounds as she slides onto his length. 

It’s been far too long since he was with a woman, especially this woman. 

There’s no use pretending anymore that this is not Seraphi, not when he’s _inside_ her. He has to accept this, there’s no alternative. 

“How’s your refractory period?” she pants, breasts bouncing as she fucks him. “Because mine has never been better.”

“A quarter or half an hour. But I do have other means of pleasing you,” _mother_ he nearly adds, nearly calls her what she is, what she has become.

“Good,” she swivels her hips, smirking as he moans in response. “Because I’m not slowing down, at all.”

Balem manages to pin her down after six more of her orgasms (two of his own.) He has her on her hands and knees, takes her from behind, whispers the foulest things into her ears. 

She scratches Balem’s chest and leaves bruises on his arms wrestling him onto the couch, locks her knees around his head, half stifles him as his mouth works frantically to please her. He nearly blacks out before she comes, rolls off of him, drags her fingernails down his thighs as she waits for him to get hard again. 

He does black out after another back and forth exchange, wakes cold on the floor, sees her curled up on his couch wrapped in his cloak. 

“My family has been safely transported back to Earth, with no memory of what transpired here. The Aegis are in orbit close by, in case I require any assistance.”

Balem watches her carefully, does not move. His throat is throbbing in pain, his hips ache like the time he put off the bath for too long, and he cannot even think of his cock without a shiver of pain coursing through his body. 

“I am keeping the Earth. I am keeping my title. And I am confiscating half of your holdings in retaliation for trespassing on my planet, stealing my properties, and drugging me when I came to discuss terms.”

Balem closes his eyes. So she will not have him executed. There is that, at least. And he will have some of his planets still. And time, to plot, and take his vengeance. 

“That drug was very interesting,” she rises, dragging his cloak behind her. “You’ve gotta let me know how you experience it, if it’s different from my reactions.”

Balem stares at her in horror, already feeling the flush creeping over his body. “No … no …” he reaches for her, weak and aching. This is beyond torment, beyond cruelty. 

“Yeah, got some from the cabinet, poured it down your mouth while you were still pretty much unconscious. Way more than I had though. Sorry, must be going. Queenly duties to attend to.” She spares him one look, one single look over her shoulder, as he drags himself a few agonizing inches across the floor. 

“Anything!” he screams. “I’ll give you anything!”

She smiles, pivots on her heels. 

“Well, for starters,” she points down at her feet. “Get on your knees for me.”

He looks at her – Seraphi, Jupiter, there is no difference now – and crawls towards her feet.


End file.
